


Christmas, Happiness, Recovery, and Fatherhood

by canibleasegetawaffle



Series: Shell Cottage: Bill and Fleur Navigate Family [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: And the beginnings of Drarry if you squit very hard, Bill and Fleur are bi icons fight me, Christmas Fluff, F/M, Fluff, I am a terrible writer oof, I can't remember if I swore or not in this jf that means I need to rate it T let me know i guess, Implied Minor Blaise Zabini/Ron Weasley, Is there a straight Weasley?, M/M, Some angst, probably not, supportive family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-09-05 07:22:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16806073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canibleasegetawaffle/pseuds/canibleasegetawaffle
Summary: It's Victoire's first Christmas, and thus the second Christmas since the war. Bill struggles with the concept of moving on as life and his family does.





	Christmas, Happiness, Recovery, and Fatherhood

**Author's Note:**

> Please forgive me for this if it's terrible. I'm bad at writing feelings.

For once, Victoire slept through the night. There had been no hunger, no accidents, no midnight tantrums. Instead, the baby clutched her reindeer plush close to her chest, breathed deeply, and dreamed of nothing in particular, being seven months old. Bill, who had not slept that night, wondered if on some level, his daughter knew that it was Christmas, and this was her present to her parents. She woke up at nine in the morning. They had time before they'd have to leave to go join the rest of the Weasleys, so he let Fleur sleep in, dressing and bottle-feeding Victoire himself. 

To be honest, Bill was something of a sappy sort of father, and dressing his daughter in a little elf costume was very much expected of him at this point. She looked adorable. He took a picture, he played with his daughter, and he waited. It was her first Christmas. It was the second since the war. Things had to be perfect, absences couldn't be noted, and everyone had to pretend to be over everything. 

“You seem stressed,” Fleur commented from the kitchen doorway. Her accent was less thick than when they had met. Bill turned around as their daughter beamed at the sight of her mother. She added: “You look tired, too. Did you not sleep?” 

“No,” He admitted. There was no use in lying. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” She offered. 

“No,” He answered. “Sorry.”

“You English always say ‘sorry’. You do not need to apologise Bill. You will talk when you want to,” Fleur scolded him, and he chuckled lightly. She went to sit on the counter by him, taking Victoire from his arms. She cooed at the happy child.

“I like this outfit,” Fleur decided after a pleasant silence. 

“You'd better,” Bill said, “because I already have next year's planned for her.” 

“Oh,” Fleur shook her head. “That cannot happen. It's my turn next year.” 

“I'll let you have Easter,” Bill promised. 

“No, you'll just take both Halloween and Christmas,” Fleur refused stubbornly. Victoire gurgled in agreement. 

“Oh, not you too,” Bill pouted at his daughter. He felt loving eyes on him, two pairs. An alarm went off. 

“Time to get dressed,” Fleur stood up as she spoke. “You get ready first. You take longer, so I'll make it work in the time.”

“That's not true!” Bill protested weakly, even though it was very much true. Fleur ushered him up the stairs, setting Victoire down in her chair so she could feed her before the day began. 

*** 

The Burrow would always be crammed at Christmas. There weren't even countless grandchildren yet, just Teddy and Victoire. Apparently, Teddy would be there for the morning before his grandmother picked him up to spend the afternoon with Andromeda and the Malfoys. The child was delighted to see Victoire, since it had been around two months. Everybody else was happy at the family's arrival to, or at least Bill hoped they genuinely were so.

It was a stampede of siblings and parents rushing out for hugs and greetings. Bill was overwhelmed, but in a good way. Last year, everything had felt out of place and bad and  _ wrong.  _ Announcing Fleur's pregnancy hadn't been the best, either, because it was a shock and felt soon, apparently. This year, even with grief evident in their eyes, the smiles felt true, and some of Bill's anxieties melted away. Things could be normal. 

“You,” Molly said, pecking her eldest son on the cheek in between her words, “had best go and talk some sense into your brother.” 

“Which one?” Bill laughed. 

“Percy,” Molly told him. “He's been a stubborn so-and-so, I tell you. Haven't you?” 

“I won’t introduce them to my partner,” Percy explained, eyes averted to the floor. “Apparently that should've happened today.” Bill looked at his brother and pondered. He was a good brother. He knew what this was, he thought. But that was a conversation for later. 

“Oh, there's always next Sunday,” Bill dismissed Molly's pushy motherness. 

“The cheek of you to say that!” Ginny chipped in. “Where’ve you been the past two months?” 

Perhaps it was Bill's time to break off from that conversation. God, Sunday dinners were important to these lot. They were to him, too. But he was a new father. He was busy. So he ran. Outside, it was snowing. Percy joined him. 

“You know, don't you?” Percy said, daring only to squat rather than get his expensive trousers damp. Bill was practically laying in it, revelling in the sensation. 

“They won't care, Perce,” Bill assured him. “And even if they do, you'll have me.” 

“They want grandchildren wherever they can,” Percy said sadly. “I'm hardly about to fall pregnant, and neither is - neither is my boyfriend.”

“Adoption exists,” Bill reminded him. “Well, I'm not going to push you into coming out. I'd be a hypocrite.” Percy looked surprised. 

“You're-”

“Bisexual,” Bill confirmed. “So is Fleur. She and Charlie are the only ones who know, ‘part from you, now, of course. And any partners I may or may not have had in my youth.” 

“Why'd you you tell Charlie?” 

“I couldn't exactly hide it when he stumbled into me leaving the Astronomy Tower with a guy.”

“And he didn't mind?” Percy was biting his lip. 

“He didn't mind,” Bill affirmed. He sensed Fleur at the garden door. He turned and she was there, Teddy clinging to her leg, Victoire in her arms. Bill wanted another child. Desperately.

“I don't mind if she knows,” Percy decided when he noticed her, too. “I'm gay,” he said quietly. 

“Okay,” Fleur said. “I will not tell the others, don't worry.” 

“Thank you,” Percy replied, smiling at his sister-in-law, who smiled back. Bill grinned. “I think I'm planning on opening up, though. But I'll only invite him around if I know you two- no,  _ three, _ sorry, Vic- will be there.” Fleur and Bill had the grace to look ashamed. 

***

Present-opening had been a chaotic event in the Weasley household for as many Christmases as Bill could remember. Nobody seemed to pay much mind to each other, tearing the wrapping paper off of their own gifts. Words of gratitude could come later. 

Of course, when your child isn't even a year old, you can't just ignore the thing and focus on yourself. Victoire sat between Bill and Fleur on the floor. She was too intrigued by the presents they were helping her open to start crawling away like she was doing a lot at that point in time. It was mostly stuffed animals, and though Bill doubted that anything was going to replace that reindeer plush Victoire loved so much, she adored those sorts of toys and she kept pressing them against her face. 

However cute his daughter was, and however cute his wife was, and however cute his wife and daughter interacting was, Bill remained a big brother and was able to pick up on the sudden shift in mood coming from Percy, who sat on the edge of a sofa leg. He had been staring forlornly into the distance, but when Ginny unwrapped a present which happened to be the latest model of a broom, he suddenly straightened up and coughed loudly. Bill perked up, and Victoire, noticing her father’s attentiveness, mimicked the look towards Percy. 

“The person I'm seeing is a guy,” Percy admitted, his face red. “It's, uh, it's Oliver. Wood. Oliver Wood.” 

“The old Quidditch captain! You minx!” George exclaimed, and Percy laughed nervously. 

“Well, you best bring him here for New Years!” Molly replied, smiling. “He'll have to get his jumper then, since you didn't say earlier!” 

“A Quidditch captain? We'll have to de-gnome the garden for a game! Though I'm not so great at my age!” Arthur added. 

“You didn't think we'd mind, did you?” Charlie prompted. “Well, we don't, anyway.” Ron nodded his agreement. 

“I…” Percy hesitated. “Merry Christmas to me. Thank you, I mean. I'm glad-” 

“Oh, stop staring at the poor boy!” Fleur cried out, grabbing Victoire as the child attempted to crawl away. “I don't think that'll make him very comfortable, no?”

It wasn't forgotten after that, but they let it be. They didn't need to address it. Yet again Bill found himself thinking things were perfect (but his wedding had been p-)

“Let yourself be happy, Bill,” Fleur whispered to him. He nodded. He could never refuse his wife. 

***

“I think I'm going to go with Teddy and Andromeda,” Harry announced. “If that's alright, of course. It's just that Draco told me he and his mother find it difficult with his father in Azkaban, and-” 

“Of course, Harry! You don't need our permission, silly!” Molly replied cheerfully as she checked on the turkey. 

“Is Blaise going to be with them?” Ron murmured awkwardly to his friend, looking around to see if anybody else was listening in. He didn't seem to remember or perhaps realise that Fenrir Greyback's attack on Bill may not have left him with lycanthropy but it had given him enhanced senses. Bill didn't want to eavesdrop, but he was already gripped. 

“I haven’t asked,” Harry whispered back to his best friend. 

“Right,” Ron replied. “Not that I care. I didn't need to know. Just making conversation.” 

“Ron,’ Harry said, frowning. He sighed. “I'll send him your season’s greetings if I see him.” 

“Oh, sure, just to be polite, y’know?” 

Bill wondered when everyone had started keeping so many secrets. Then again, he hadn’t been that open with Ron, anyway. He looked forward to when all the secrets would be out. Everyone could be really happy then. But he had to let himself be happy. People would admit things when they felt they could. It was selfish to want them to do it before they were ready, he thought. Besides, it wasn’t like families didn't keep secrets. 

*** 

Just like the night before, Victoire slept like an angel. Bill supposed all the crawling was wearing her out. He hoped she'd learn to walk soon, just to make her all the more tired. But she was asleep. Bill and Fleur were awake, though, curled up together on their sofa, watching the sea from their windows. 

“I think,” Bill began, considering his words. Fleur shifted slightly next to him. He was ready to talk. “I think I'm afraid of being properly happy again. I think I'm afraid that someone's going to want to take it away. So when I see everyone else moving on, it makes me nervous. But at the same time, I'm scared that they haven't moved on really, and that they won't. I want things to be normal. Like things were before Voldemort came back and killed F- and killed all those people. But really, it's me who's stopping things from normal, isn't it?” 

“I think,” Fleur answered, her breath warm and comforting and in such a close proximity that Bill felt the safest he ever had, “that you are not as alone as you believe. Everyone's confused, Bill. Everyone wants it to be normal again. And I imagine everyone else thinks you're moving on, too. You're allowed to mourn. You're allowed to be afraid. It has not even been two years since the war. But don't let it stop you being happy. You're also allowed to be happy.” 

“Merry Christmas, Fleur,” Bill said after a moment, holding his wife close. 

“Joyeux Noël, Bill,” She replied, pecking his cheek affectionately. 

Bill was happy. 

**Author's Note:**

> If you have improvevents to suggest you should probably just not comment them. Not to be mean or anything it's just it'll make me sad and I won't listen to them anyway. 
> 
> Just kidding I guess I can't stop you haha


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